Then, with a gun at his back, the black was ordered to lead the way.
It was a long climb, by stone steps; then came a long corridor. At last a room, where was a fire and cookery, utilizing a break in the wall, looking on the court, for a fireplace.
The six men, and the voodoo woman, at the cooking, were taken unawares, their two rifles confiscated, and they were lined up against the wall; Norris patting his rifle and winking, to accentuate what Marat was telling them in the French.
The three children sat on the floor in a corner: two of them blacks, about three years of age each--and little Marie Cambon, looking like her portrait, but now big-eyed and dazed with trying to realize the meaning of this new appearance. I divined the prelude to a storm; so I hurried over and took her up in my arms. "Little Marie!" I said. And then burst forth that flood. You have seen children cry. It continued till she was exhausted; and then she sobbed long in her sleep. She wouldn"t let me put her down; even while she slept, my attempt to relinquish her little body invariably awakened her. For two hours I must carry her, and we were far from that place before she would let me rest my arms.
The two little pickaninnies were taken on, and we went off the way we had come, leaving the seven blacks to reflect on the words of a lecture Jean Marat delivered them on the evil of their ways, and to consider how they were to account to their lord and master--and _papaloi_--Duran, for the loss of the three "goats without horns."
Night sprung upon us before we reached the Brill cottage. And it was truly a happy throng that gathered there. Melie bustled about preparing a supper, between whiles crooning over the three little ones--white and black.
"Shall I see my papa and mamma?" said little Marie Cambon.
"Yes," Melie a.s.sured her. "You shall go to your papa and mamma," and they both giggled, girl-like, for happiness.
And the little pickaninnies echoed: "Maman, maman," and Melie delighted them with creole baby-talk; and they grinned and clapped their hands.
Robert and I had soon got the stain off our skins. Little Marie watched the process, and said I looked "more beautiful" without the black. At supper there was held a council of war. Before we could move about the business of the gold mine, there were two things left to be done: we must take the Brills under our protection, for by enlisting their active help we had got them under the anathema of the voodoos; and we must see to the return of little Marie to the arms of her waiting parents. Some of the effects of the Brills we got over to the care of a friendly neighbor. Norris and Robert were to remain to a.s.sist Carlos and Melie with their little wagon to the city. They were also to look out for the two little blacks.
The rest of our party moved seaward over the old trail by which we had come. Little Marie clung to myself; she would have none but the one who had been the first to take her from her captors.
The morning was not yet gone, when we got to the coast. We drew our boat to the water; and then it was--back to the _Pearl_ again.
Marat and Julian were at the oars, and our boat swung round and pointed toward the _Pearl_. It was then we perceived a boat coming toward us.
And we made it out to be the other small boat from the _Pearl_. Two of the black sailors manned the oars, and a stranger sat in the stern sheets.
The two boats rapidly approached; in another pair of minutes I had identified that new figure.
"It"s Monsieur Cambon!" I cried. Little Marie was beside me; I turned her face to the approaching boat.
"See! It"s papa!" I told her.
Her little face lighted up, and she seemed to expand with happiness, as she looked.
"Papa! Papa!" she murmured.
The two boats came together, by oars they were held fast; and I pa.s.sed the child over to the silent, eager father.
"Oh! My little daughter!--Marie!" he said, then. "You are safe! Your mamma will be so happy! So happy!"
Madame Cambon was on the _Pearl_, Monsieur told us. She was worn to a shadow with anguish. The good news must trickle to her gently. It was for that he came to meet us.
A strange thing it seems, that emotions of happiness can be as deadly as the tragic. Monsieur Cambon"s boat lingered behind, as ours moved to the _Pearl_. Madame Cambon lay on a hammock set up under the awning. Dark patches were under her eyes. She tried to smile a greeting.
"I am happy that you are here," I began.
I did not rightly hear her murmured reply; and I had no mind for it anyway, whatever it was, for my mind was in a rack--how to proceed?
"You must not give in that way," I protested.
"How can I help?" she said.
"You help us all if you have courage," I said.
"Oh, I have tried," she said. "If only I could have hope."
"If you have courage I promise you hope," I ventured.
She sat up. "Hope! Only give me hope!"
"Yes," I said, with all the a.s.surance of which I was capable, "I give you hope--you have it."
"Oh, I like the way you say that!" And her face took on a new look.
"I even promise you she shall come back to you again," I ventured once more.
Her bosom heaved for some moments; then she got control.
"Please do not give me false hopes," she begged.
"No," I a.s.serted, now more sure of her, "I even promise you shall see her soon."
She looked me in the eyes, to read if I told the whole truth.
"You have come with news!" she cried. "I understand you now. Tell me all--I can bear it--I see; you have prepared me. She is coming. Where is my husband?"
"Yes," I said. "She is coming. She is with her father; they will soon be here."
Her eyes swept the water, but the boat was hidden under the rail. I went to the side, reached down and took up little Marie from her father"s hands, and brought her to her mother.
No need to describe that scene. Madame Cambon"s now was a quiet, restrained emotion. She shed some tears, but there was no violence. And at last she came to talk of grat.i.tude, and we had to cut off her speech.
That task fell to Ray.
"You don"t know what you"re doing," he said. "You"re making us ashamed of all the fun we had. And I want to tell you of the bee I turned loose in one voodoo fellow"s bonnet."
And in a minute Ray had her laughing.
Monsieur Cambon told us how Madame"s condition made it imperative that they follow us in our search for Marie. He said, "We must go, she insisted, if only to be near."
The Cambons were destined to leave us on the following day, and to carry Melie Brill with them on the steamer to Jamaica. But in the meantime we awaited the coming of that portion of our party left behind up in the foothills.
It was long after dark had come that we heard the call of Robert on the beach opposite. Ray and I hurried the boat to sh.o.r.e, and took on Robert, Norris, Carlos and Melie Brill. And they had a story to tell.
CHAPTER IX